


Happy Christmas (War is Over)

by Charlie9646



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Christmas, Christmas Cards, Coping, F/M, Flashbacks, M/M, Poly Relationships, Post War, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Remus Lupin Lives, Severus Snape Lives, Slice of Life, Travel, Triad - Freeform, unspeakable hermione
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:22:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27766705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charlie9646/pseuds/Charlie9646
Summary: Hermione Granger had been traveling for work for years, it brought her happiness, allowed her to see the world, and sometimes made her struggle. But now it made her only miss Severus and Remus.The stack of Christmas cards before was an odd tradition that she had taken up, though it was far from traditional.Based off the John Lennon song of a similar name
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Severus Snape, Remus Lupin/Hermione Granger, Remus Lupin/Nymphadora Tonks, Remus Lupin/Severus Snape, Remus Lupin/Severus Snape/Hermione Granger
Comments: 12
Kudos: 54
Collections: Hermione's Holiday Hideaway 2020





	Happy Christmas (War is Over)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you Starryar for Betaing this.
> 
> My prompts were Christmas Cards, Sun Valley, Idaho, and Severus/Hermione/Remus

Picking up her quill, Hermione wrote out a simple note on a Christmas card before her. This one was for Ginny who was not traveling with the Holyhead Harpies this year, but was now working as a reporter for  _ The Daily Prophet _ after the birth of her second son. It was a silly tradition that Hermione had taken up when she started traveling for work with the Department of Mysteries as an Unspeakable. It became something of a habit of hers to buy a pack of Christmas cards each year to use them to write letters to her friends and loved ones. Harry told her once that he thought it was sweet and Remus kept a stack of them on his desk at work, as if to remind him of her when she was out of town. Severus on the other hand called them hilarious, claiming that he thought they were the most foolish thing that he had ever seen. 

And yet, he too had a stack on them tucked away in his nightstand. He did not speak out of bitterness; it simply was his personality, not that Hermione honestly minded - at least not too much. Asking Severus to be anyone else would be like asking a zebra to change their stripes. When she was home though, it was nice to see his collection of cards tied tightly in an evergreen green ribbon. 

Sending the greeting cards wasn’t about making her loved ones happy, she did it to try and confront her own pain around Christmas.

_ There wasn’t time to think of that now there was work to do _ , she chastised herself,  _ and it had to be done quickly if I am going to make it home for the holidays _ . Sometimes, Hermione wondered why she continued to do this job as it was one that sent her to far flung corners of the earth. When she had taken it, she had just divorced Ron and simply wanted to find herself again and avoid the stares from people who thought they knew what was best for her. Divorce wasn’t something common in the wizarding world and usually it was due to some scandalous reason  _ The Prophet _ tried to aggrandize on. People couldn’t seem to understand that her ex-husband was not some sort of monster, not by any means of the word, but they just weren’t suited for one another. She and Ron were like two puzzle pieces that looked as if they could fit, but simply could not be clicked into place. 

The divorce did not mean that there was anything particularly wrong with either of them, but it was a countless collection of differences about something as simple as he liked well-rounded dinner on the table every night, but she would rather spend her time making a difference in the life of others. Ron wanted to have many children, but the very idea of giving birth made Hermione’s stomach turn. They shouldn’t have gotten married to begin with; it had been a rush of high flung feelings and desperation, of not wanting to be alone and a desire to make a better life for herself. It also was about doing what everyone else was doing, surely the same reason why so many had gotten married during the first war. It had been an ache in the pit of her stomach and willingness to be foolish -- if only to have the ability to feel alive once more.

Then, just as quickly as the words ‘ _ I do’ _ had slipped past her lips, everything seemed to come crashing back down to earth. Their marriage lasted exactly two years, four months and three bloody days. The divorce papers bought them their freedom, giving them both an escape. Ron was now married to Pansy and they had a pair of twin girls. They were happy together and Hermione was happy for them. 

Her life, however, had taken a different path. Starting with a trip to Sebes Romania for work, she fell in love with traveling far deeper than she had ever been with any man - until she met Severus and Remus at a bar together.

The two of them talking, their heads close, one man’s fingers brushing against the other’s arm. They looked happy and younger than either had seemed during the war. When she had walked up to them to say hello, Snape of all people had turned to her and flirted. It was slightly awkward, but she had been just as out of practice as he was. The rest as they say was history. The three of them kept running into each other and ending up in bed with one another. They fell in love, deeply and happily, with a joy and comfort that made Hermione feel as if she belonged for once in a very long time. 

But more so than the sense of belonging they provided, she loved them. She loved Severus because of his twisted sense of humor, the way he truly listened like he cared, and the way he went down on her. She loved Remus because of his kind heart, how he would hold her, and the way he looked when got lost in his own pleasure. Perhaps her favorite thing of all though, was how it felt like she didn’t need to be everything for either of them. A poly relationship suited her quite well; Severus had Remus and a man he kept seeing that worked in his potion’s shop while Remus had Severus and Tonks who made him happy in their own very different ways. And Hermione? She had both of her men.

Some people judged them, their barbed comments filling her head and even her heart - when she gave them the space to - but the truth was it wasn’t those people’s lives. It was hers, Tonks’, Remus’, Severus’ and anyone who  _ they  _ wanted to be a part of it - not anyone else, as much as other people seemed to  _ think _ it was.

Part of her wished that they could move to a place where no one cared, but it was unlikely that such a place truly existed. Humans were strange creatures, they tended to judge the things that they could not understand. Though, that did not change how hurtful their words could be, now did it? 

Setting Ginny’s card aside, she tried her best not to get lost in thoughts of the past, but Hermione was failing. It was like gripping the edge of a cliff waiting for someone to step on her fingers, so she could finally fall. The attacks only seemed to happen when she was alone, which she was grateful for, but it didn’t change the intensity of her feelings when they happened or the rather horrible feeling it left her with. 

Hermione felt lonely as she laid under the covers of the bed. It wasn’t her bed, but it was a place to sleep all the same. The feeling was like a sharp ache in the center of her chest, a feeling that seemed to settle over her like nothing else. She missed Remus and Severus like nothing that she had ever felt before. Long ago she wished for time alone, away from the world, when the ghosts of the war seemed to haunt her like nothing else. When they clung to her like vines wrapping around her limbs, twisting and tightening around her, pulling her back into her nightmares. Time and work had silenced the ghosts over the years, but sometimes on nights like her trauma returned to haunt her like a river plowing into her and uprooting her out of nowhere. 

Maybe it was something about this room, the dark blue walls with the white trim, the closet in the corner, the pale oak wood floors. The four-poster queen bed that seemed so cold and far too big, when she was in it alone. 

Hermione jumped out of the bed, taking a seat at the desk going through her files. She flipped through the endless pages, but the words looked as if they were nothing more than ants crawling across the page. 

There was a new handy spell that Draco Malfoy, of all people, had created: the  _ instant owl,  _ he had called it. Hermione grabbed a Christmas card from the stack. On this one's cover was a Christmas tree that was wrapped in a crimson red ribbon as tightly as a shoelace. It did not matter what was on the cover, not really. She could tear off a piece of parchment and it would do just the same. 

But Hermione didn’t. She wrote inside the card with her shaky handwriting:

_ ‘I need you two... I am sorry to ask you both to come, but I need you. I miss you and it’s one of those nights. I think I need to stop traveling or at least not take trips around this time of year… It’s always the worst. Christmas is a hard time for me. For a lot of reasons.’  _

Hermione tapped the  _ Instant Owl’s _ pattern on the card with her wand. She was grateful that she was capable of nonverbal magic because she soon discovered her voice had left her. No matter how many times she opened her mouth, nothing came out. The vines that had been carved into her wand were digging sharply into her palm as she clenched harder, trying to calm herself down. 

She hated the ache in her chest, the weakness in her limbs, and the instability that seemed to come along with them. This was supposed to be a  _ happy _ time of year, one filled with Christmas cheer and laughter. Yet the only thing she could remember was being hungry, cold and most of all afraid. It had been a decade since the war and yet in this instant, it felt as if it could have been yesterday. The past felt more real than the small resort town outside her window. 

Hermione held on to the idea of the town to ground herself. She knew the name of the town Sun Valley, Idaho. A town with less than two thousand people residing in it year round.  _ There were some universities that had more people attend them, that was a stupid fact wasn’t it? To think of? To remember? _ Sometimes when she was like this Hermione would recall facts... It had been something her therapist had taught her, a silly mind trick to remind her where she was and that she wasn’t actually in the past or the mental time loop that seemed to want to drag her down.

When she attempted to stand from the desk chair, she collapsed onto the carpet floor in a small pile.“My name is Hermione Jean Granger,” she whispered. “I am an Unspeakable. I travel regularly for work. I have two loving partners. Their names are Severus and Remus. My name is Hermione Jean Granger... Teddy is the boy that I am helping them raise. He is eleven years old and attends Hogwarts. My name is Hermione Jean Granger. It’s Teddy’s first year. I love him dearly. My name is Hermione Jean Granger. I couldn’t love my step-son anymore even if he was my biological son. The war is over. Harry is alive and well. Voldemort is dead… And my name is Hermione Jean Granger. I am alive and I am going to survive this. I have survived far worse.” 

Hermione lifted her head before pulling herself off the floor, and dusted herself off, trying to get the invisible grime off her sleep shirt and dressing gown. Severus and Remus were now standing in her hotel room, portkey still in their hands. The former was dressed in a heavy cloak while the latter was dressed in his pajamas. Severus’ black hair looked to be still wet from the shower; while Remus’ was sticking up in all sorts of directions. They both however, looked happy to see her, even in such a strange situation. 

“I am sorry we didn’t come sooner,” Remus said, pointing finger at Severus. “That one insisted on getting dressed first.”   
  


“Just because you are perfectly fine taking an international portkey in your sleep clothes doesn’t mean I am,” Severus drawled, rolling his black eyes as he did so. “What’s wrong Hermione? Your letter wasn’t clear.”

“Harry doesn’t care and you know it, Sev,” Remus muttered. “Now, Hermione, are you okay?”

“I think… I am?” Her voice sounded rather shaky, even to her. “I just... I don’t know.” Pulling her wild curls out of her face, she sat on the edge of the bed. 

Severus joined her and kissed her forehead, before tucking a stray curl behind her ear. “Why don’t we just go to bed? How does that sound? We can decide tomorrow if we want to stay here or go back home, doesn’t that sound nice?”

“It does,” Hermione said, resting her head on his shoulder. 

Remus sat down next to her on the other side of her, “Where does  _ here _ happen to be, Hermione?” 

“Sun Valley, Idaho, United States of America,” Severus said dryly. “What?  _ I _ actually listen to her when she tells me where she’s going to be. We couldn’t have gotten here if both of us didn’t know where she was. Potter isn’t even capable of tethering a portkey to a person’s location without knowing where they are.”

She nestled herself deeper into his side. “Hush, would you both? And I think it's time to try and get some sleep. What time is it back home anyway?”

“Four AM, give or take a few minutes,” the werewolf yawned, stretching his arms over his head. “Hence why I did not bother getting dressed unlike  _ someone _ .” She could nearly hear Remus rolling his eyes even though she did not see it.

“Hush you,” Hermione muttered. “Let’s go to bed.”

Severus took the liberty of pulling down the blankets, while Remus stood next to her.Hermione was left feeling dead on her feet as flashbacks often left her like this. It was as if every bit of energy had been zapped from her. She reminded herself that tomorrow was another day and they would face it together, all three of them. Hermione laid between her lovers and tried her very best to dream of only happy things. She told her ghosts that they didn’t matter anymore. 

She wasn’t alone and she never would be. 

The war was over, but leaving it behind was easier said than done, even when it was nearly Christmas, all she could do was hope that the next year would be better than the last. 

  
  



End file.
